


So This Lady Walks Into my Bookstore...

by Arthur0098



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Filk references, Gem War, Gem history, Implications of the Gem Empire, Proper usage of resources, We're better than they think we are, aerospace, there are other players in the galaxy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:47:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24309964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arthur0098/pseuds/Arthur0098
Summary: Training to be an aerospace engineer, a college student takes a job in a book store in Beach City to pay the bills. She didn't notice anything strange until that short lady in green and her nephew walked in her door asking for manuals on the old Apollo LEM. Then the lady started yelling about replicants.A month later, the engineer encountered the green woman again, an expression of concern on her face. She asked one question. "Have humans ever gone into space?"
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	So This Lady Walks Into my Bookstore...

Llyn hadn’t been here for long. The little bookstore was the only job around, apart from the donut shop, and it didn’t get a lot of traffic. That was fine, really. It meant the amount of homework she could do made the commute worth it. Her college was in the next town over. 

The bell on the door rang, and she looked up to see who walked in. The two customers were very short, for one. The curly-haired boy was a full head shorter than the clerk was, and the woman next to him was the same height, but skinnier.

The woman was a strange one, looking like she could’ve just come from a con. Dressed in a jumpsuit, her skin seemed to be bright green. Llyn had no idea what costume that would be. 

One might have initially mistaken them both for children due to their height, but Llyn corrected herself, realizing the woman must have had dwarfism. The woman had the proportions of an adult, but was simply extremely short. 

“Uh, hi!” the boy grinned at her. “Do you sell manuals here? For mechanics and stuff?”

“Sure thing,” Llyn said, “Aisle 5.”

“Thank you!”

Llyn watched the boy walk past the woman, dragging her along by the hand.

The woman stared around at the place like she’d never seen it before, squinting through her goggles. “Steven, are you sure this is the right place? A collection of pressed organic matter with carbon arranged in patterns all over it?”

“Dad said this was the place to get manuals for all the stuff in the barn, like the Lunar Module. He said you can’t find a lot of it on the internet ‘cos nobody copied it, so it’s just in books now.”

“Why am I even surprised? You people still use magnetrons.” the woman sighed, “I guess I’ll have to settle for this…”

Llyn watched them go, an eyebrow raised.  _ Magnetron? _

She forgot about the strange pair when more customers came in, and she had to attend to them.

About an hour later, the boy and the woman approached, the boy laden down with a precarious pile of books. The woman was still staring at everything as if it was completely new, not looking at Llyn at all. 

The boy carefully placed the pile on the desk, “We’d like all of these, please!”

“Sure thing,” Llyn started scanning the books, and raised an eyebrow at the titles. There were manuals for everything from radar systems, to underground mining, and for some reason a Russian-to-english dictionary. “You folks building something?” Llyn asked.

“Oh, just a giant drill to drill to the giant cluster in the Earth’s crust.” the boy said, with a grin and a wave of the hand.

Llyn raised her eyebrows. “Sounds cool,” she said, scanning each of the books. She glanced at the woman, who was shifting from foot to foot, looking nervous. “If you don't mind me asking, why's your skin green? Are you folks going to a con or something?”

The woman scoffed, “it's not skin, it's hard light that adjusts to environmental conditions!”

Llyn furrowed her brow, “...which environmental conditions?”

The woman smirked a little condescendingly, “This planet's conditions, obviously! I wouldn't expect you to understand.”

Oh jeez, a  _ snobby  _ nerd. “Which part? Environmental conditions are the conditions of the environment. And hard light is what it sounds like.”

The woman narrowed her gaze at the clerk, “How do you know?”

“Dictionaries, video games, and reading, miss.”

The woman jumped up onto the counter, wobbling precariously as she leaned into Llyn's face, “where did you get this information?! Who told you?! Are you from homeworld?! Are you some kind of replicant?! A spy?!”

“Peridot!” The boy cried, pulling her down, “Leave her alone!”

“Lady, get off the counter before I--!”

Already, the boy had dragged the woman down, grabbed the books, and was halfway to the door. Before Llyn could stop them, they were gone.

  
  


She told her boss the story, and to her surprise, he just laughed.

“Don't let them bother you. That's just Steven Universe, he and his family live nearby.”

“Mr. Dodson, that woman--”

“Just leave it be. They're harmless, they didn't hurt anything, and that kid's a good kid. He's got an odd family, but they’re pretty sweet.”

“That lady didn’t seem so sweet to me,” Llyn grumbled.

Mr. Dodson laughed. “Yeah, Mr. Universe told me about her. She’s from  _ way _ out of state, some kind of aunt or something, I dunno.”

“Aunt? She didn’t look that much like him.”

“According to Mr. Universe, Steven’s mother, Rose, had this big extended family. Lots of sisters and all that. She died a while back, Mr. Universe said, so it’s just the sisters and him raising the kid.”

“Oh,” Llyn blinked. “You see a lot of them around?”

“Oh yeah, all over,” Mr. Dodson waved a hand. “Mr. Universe owns the carwash down the way, so they’ll be around there sometimes. They live on this little house on the other side of the island, pretty far from everyone. Like to be left alone. You’ll see Steven with one of them, or a couple more--usually Garnet or Amethyst, they’re the friendliest.” 

‘What’s with the gem names?”

“Dunno. Some kinda’ family thing, I guess. Just keep an eye on them if they show up again. Trust me, they’re good people, but can be...a handful if you make ‘em mad.”

Something in the old Air Force pilot's eyes made her drop the subject.

  
  


**XXXXX**

  
  


Months passed without sight of either Steven or his aunts. Llyn was both glad and disappointed for that. Saved her from getting in trouble for fighting the green one.

It was a rainy Friday when she saw her again. Even fewer people than usual were in the book store, and fewer still staff.

Llyn was busy restocking some books on a shelf that were out of order, humming to herself, “ **_Twelve-thousand, half-million, million and more, picnicking out on the warm water shore…_ ** ”

Her day had been pretty terrible from start to finish. Even worse, she had no one to commiserate with. At least the books understood her…

“Something something ... **_to watch all the spaceships that take off and land…_ ** ”

The bell on the door jingled, and there was the light roar of the rain outside as a customer entered.

The clerk rolled her eyes and hurriedly put the books back, stacking them horizontally like most of the books in the shop.

She quick-marched to the front row of shelves, sticking her head around the corner to make sure the customer wasn’t standing at the counter.

Llyn frowned as she saw the small figure standing in front of the counter, her distinctive yellow hair just reaching the top of it. Now that she looked closer, the woman’s hair didn’t really seem like  _ hair _ at all, the texture more like quills or spines, very solid and stiff. 

She was still wearing her jumpsuit (which made her look like a tiny Kree of all things), but had on a tiny trench coat, or maybe a car coat, over it, and was frustratedly trying to close an umbrella.

Llyn continued watching her, frowning to herself. Steven was nowhere in sight.

Once the umbrella was(relatively) closed, the woman pulled a tablet out of the coat pocket and hit a control.

“Log date…” she began, her nasally high-pitched voice making Llyn dig her fingernails into the shelf beside her, “...the annoying being known as ‘the clerk’ appears to be nowhere in sight. There are few beings in the store of books, in fact. Correction, none are in sight. The facility is devoid of life.”

Llyn smirked. She considered several approaches to this, but she favored the most professional one.

She walked around the corner, leaning against the shelf with her arms crossed, “Can I help you?”

The woman jumped, and moved back rapidly, waving her arms in defense. She stopped after a moment, relaxing and glaring at Llyn. She clicked the record button on whatever app she was using again, “Correction. The Clerk is present. It is the only life form at present in the facility.”

“You know, it’s a bit rude to talk about someone in the third person.”

“Don’t you have someone else to bother?” the lady demanded.

Llyn chuckled a little, and looked around, “Not really. All I see are zero customers and one threat to my books.”

“Oh please, no matter how primitive, destruction of knowledge is beneath me.”

Llyn didn’t make a short person joke. “Whaddya mean, ‘primitive’? You kept saying that last time, but you bought the books.”

“Well, I needed to familiarize myself with your archaic technology,” the woman said condescendingly, “Working with rocks and sticks is a bit of a challenge, you know!”

“I’ll bet. And that magnetron you were looking for was just  _ so _ advanced, was it?”

The woman glared at her, then rolled her eyes, “I’m not sure what you’re implying--”

“It’s obsolete. I googled it. If you were making a radar array, you could’ve gone to Best Buy for the circuits you needed.”

The woman’s eyes froze mid-roll. She furrowed her brow at Llyn, “Wait...you’ve invented…?”

“Well, I don’t remember what it was, but I googled it anyway. We’ve moved past it. Since World War II, I’m pretty sure.”

The woman turned her recorder on again, “According to the clerk, the humans are more advanced than previously suspected…”

She turned off the recorder when she saw Llyn glaring at her, though she wasn’t certain if the rudeness was why, “You people have clearly invented integrated circuits. What else have you invented?”

Llyn looked at her, exasperated, then gestured to the store, “You’re going to have to narrow that down. Should I look under ‘H’, for ‘human history’?”

“There can’t be  _ that _ much. You people only invented writing 5,000 years ago.”

“5,000 years is a long time, miss. Humans are impressive like that.”

Something about that made the obnoxious little woman’s expression change. She took the tablet in both hands, and looked off to the side. She bit her lip, suddenly nervous. “I...I have an inquiry. I didn’t know where else to go. Have humans gone into space? Do you have anything on the effects of space on your...fragile...meat sacks?”

Exasperation was joined by befuddlement. Where was this woman from? “Uh...yeah. Of course we have. Decades ago.” Llyn frowned. “You aren’t one of those, ‘the moon landing wasn’t real’ people, are you?”

Some of the superiority crept back into the woman’s voice, “Well, that doesn’t necessarily guarantee sapient-operated spacecraft…”

Llyn laughed, still confused. “I guess it doesn’t, but we have had people piloting spacecraft before.”

The woman opened and closed her mouth, shocked. “You people? In space? On other planets?”

Llyn raised an eyebrow herself, “Where have you been since 1957? Do they not have tv where you’re from?”

“Uh...What solar cycle is it now?”

Llyn shook her head, “Geez, what planet are you from?”

“Homeworld,  _ obviously _ . I doubt you’d understand--”

Llyn rolled her eyes, “I know what a homeworld is! And I was kidding!”

“Oh.” the woman frowned. “Well--so your people can pilot spacecraft,” she nodded. “How many fatalities?”

“Um--that’d be the history section,” the clerk said. This woman was confusing and infuriating by turns. “This way,” she gestured towards the back of the store.

  
  


Llyn was hesitant about allowing the woman to follow her. She remembered you never did that in the military if you didn’t want to get stabbed in the back.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t do that with customers.

“So how many ships blew up before you got anything into space?” The woman asked from behind her, “What was your first space vehicle? A chair with black powder explosives? How many humans did you lose? All fragile and soft...” Llyn glanced over her shoulder, and saw the woman knotting her fingers together nervously. 

Llyn frowned. “Someone actually did that, yeah, but about 500 years ago. Sometime. I don’t remember. But that wasn't getting into space, that was some maniac trying to get into the air. I think. And no, we haven't lost too many, we've actually lost a surprisingly small amount of people.”

“How many? Less than a thousand?”

“Which part of the space race?”

The woman blinked at her. “Space...race?”

Llyn raised her eyebrow at the woman behind her, “Race to get into space, then to the moon. That part started in 1961 or ‘63, after JFK’s moon speech.” She tapped her head, “Frak, I  _ think _ 1961\. I must be tired, I'm normally instant on this…”

“You raced to your moon? Why?”

Llyn stopped and opened her mouth to reply, then closed it for a moment. “Well... _ originally _ it was just kind of a contest to see who could between the US and the Soviets.”

“You keep speaking and using words I don’t know. Do you have a mental condition?”

“If I did, you’d know.” They reached the aisle, and Llyn gestured to the books, “Here we are.” she pointed to the shelf with scientific history and the Cold War. “This shelf has what you’re looking for, I think.”

The woman glared up at the top of the shelves. She looked at the clerk, “How does anyone get those? I need some sort of...height enhancer!”

Llyn immediately felt embarrassed. She’d somehow completely forgotten the woman’s height--no matter how rude the woman was, it was still pretty rude to be inaccessible right back. “I’ll find a stool…”

  
  


When she returned, she was surprised to find the woman had already gotten several books down. She grimaced. She hoped the woman hadn’t climbed the shelves. Idly, she wondered how heavy the woman was…’hard light construct…’

Her distaste turned to shock at the rate the woman was flipping through a book on space biology.

“Space stations?” the woman muttered. She put it down and picked up another. “Orbital spaceflight?...Lunar missions?” She shoved the book at Llyn, “You! This is real, isn’t it?! You did this?!”

Llyn put the stool down, and took the book. It was showing a photo of a glittering Apollo CSM, probably taken from a LEM. She couldn’t help a smile.

“Yeah! Of course we did.”

“But...but...you’re  _ humans _ ! You’re so fragile!” She picked up another book, and flipped through it rapidly, far faster than a human ever could, “You’re  _ organics _ !  _ Organics _ ! How could you build this?” she dropped the book and dragged her hands down her face, anxious. “You built massive inefficient vessels with significant amounts of explosive chemicals for fuel, put your people on tiny capsules on top of them, and  _ flew outside the atmosphere _ ! No Gem technology, no backups, no force fields! Just a few layers of insulation and airtight structures keeping your skins intact! How could you do it?”

“Because that's what we do.” Llyn said quietly.

“But...but...uh...What’s Bigeminy?”

“Um…”

“No need to google it. It says here it’s a heart condition! One of your...astronauts died of it after the symptoms appeared due to microgravity conditions! The youngest of the lunar explorers!” she wailed, then went through the books again, flipping through them at superhuman speeds, tossing them in a manner that made Llyn almost try to catch them...only for them to land in stacked precision.

She was utterly baffled. How was that even possible? She must’ve just been looking at the pictures...

“You lost three people on the ground when they burned alive inside their capsule! Another not even in a spacecraft also burned alive! One splattered after his retros and parachutes failed! Three killed...”

The woman brandished a book with a photo of medics trying to revive three bodies on stretchers in the middle of a large countryside. There was a vehicle shaped like a headlight in the background, with a hatch open through the soot covering it, “Look! Look! It killed your people! The ship depressurized!”

“Hey, hey,” Llyn held her hands up. “Take it easy. We didn't take it lightly. Those men knew the risks. All astronauts and cosmonauts know the risk.”

The little woman looked so upset that the clerk reached down and gently tugged the book from her hands. “You never heard of this stuff before?” she asked. “I thought you were a mechanic or something. You and your nephew cleaned us out of manuals last time you were here.”

The woman blinked. “Nephew?” she pronounced the word as if she’d never heard it before.

“Yeah, the little boy you came in with.”

“Oh! Steven. What’s a nephew?”

Llyn blinked. “Uh...you know, your sister’s son?” 

“My sister’s…?” the woman looked completely confused. “Oh. Oh! This is one of your human things, right?”

“I guess so.” 

“Well, Steven is Rose Quartz’s son,” the woman grimaced. “I guess. I’m not Rose Quartz’s sis-ter. We don’t have sisters.” she tilted her head to one side, considering. “Well, not the way you do.” 

“The way...we do?”

“You know,” the woman rolled her eyes. “Humans.” she snatched the book back from Llyn’s hands. “But humans can survive in space?” she pointed to a picture of an astronaut. “They...they don’t  _ all _ die, do they?”

Llyn laughed. “Of course not! Most of them don’t. There’s still plenty left, and we’ve got a space station that’s constantly manned, right now.”

The woman pursed her lips, then turned back to the shelf. She pulled more books off, “ _ Artificial Intelligence for Space Station Automation _ ... _ The Applications of Space Technology to Development _ ... _ Engineering and Configurations of Space Stations and Platforms _ ... _ Space Industrialization Opportunities _ ... _ The Third Industrial Revolution _ …” She pulled the last title off the shelf. She flipped through it, finally slowing down and actually reading. Still very rapidly, but a more reasonable pace. “Transfering industry into space? But...allowing the planet to heal...hm…” she tapped her lip, looking thoughtful. “Hmm, maybe fine for organics, but…”

The woman scrambled up and down the aisle, finding many other titles with dizzying speed, “ _ Space-based Weaponry _ ... _ Space Weapons and the Strategic Defense Initiative _ ... _ The Militarization and Weaponization of Space _ … _ Beam-Powered Propulsion _ …” she seemed to have forgotten the clerk entirely. 

She suddenly stopped at one shelf, staring at one title. Slowly, she pulled it out, holding it carefully.

A jet-black book. The spine read “ _ On Thermonuclear War _ ”. The woman gasped, her eyes wide. “ _ Atom splitters _ ? And...and... _ fusion bombs _ ?” she looked shocked, and finally realized Llyn was there. “You built things like that?” she demanded. 

Llyn grimaced. “...yeah. We’re not real proud of it.” she was beginning to get the feeling this lady was from some kind of cult. The weird outfit, the weird names, the big ‘family’ with sisters who weren’t sisters...this woman would need some delicate handling. 

The woman shuddered. “Ugh. Wasteful,” she said  _ wasteful _ like it was the worst thing her mind could conjure up. 

She still looked pretty upset, but Llyn had no idea why. “Did you find what you were looking for?” she asked. 

The woman shook her head, scowling, then she perked up. “Oh! What does that mean?” she jabbed her finger at Aisle 4, the Sci fi section. 

“What, science fiction?”

“Yes. What is it?” 

“Uh... _ Star Trek _ ?” maybe not a great example if the woman never had tv. “Like, robots, spaceships, aliens?” 

The woman was still confused.

“Um…” Llyn checked on her phone, “Here’s the Google definition, ‘Fiction based on imagined future scientific or technological advances and major social or environmental changes, frequently portraying space or time travel and life on other planets’.”

The woman muttered something under her breath, but then looked thoughtful, “Show me some of this ‘science fiction’. It might be amusing.”

The clerk’s eyebrows shot up. “Sure,” she said through gritted teeth. Cult looney or no, she wouldn’t get away with thinking sci fi was ‘amusing’ for long. “Come on,” she lead the woman to the right aisle, then left her alone to read. 

Llyn moved as quietly as possible, quickly and efficiently sorting. She could hear the shuffling of books close by.

“ _ Foundation _ ? I thought this was the science fiction section not the architecture section…” the woman’s voice trailed off with the sound of a book opening.

It was a rather peaceful twenty minutes, surprisingly. Llyn actually got back to the desk and was able to open her copy of  _ Starship Troopers _ .

Heinlein was a real odd one. Some of his politics were extremely troublesome(to say the least), some could be progressive(for the time), and some she didn't know what to think. The power armor was still a lot of fun, no matter how controversial the rest of the novel was. He could at least write good action.

She jumped when that nasally voice spoke up, “Explain _ this _ !”

Llyn rapidly closed her book and sat up straight before she even knew what she was doing, practice from hearing her boss or customers approach. She had to lean over the counter to see the tiny woman. 

She was glaring at Llyn, and holding up a copy of Isaac Asimov's  _ Foundation _ .

“Uh, sure,” she said. “It’s about--”

“No, no, no, I mean…” the woman screwed up her face in frustration, “how?! This...this…” She smacked her face, “you're _ humans _ ! You're fragile, you're primitive, you have short lives, you can get diseases! How could you...argh!”

The clerk raised an eyebrow, confused.

The woman ignored her, “Galactic empires, thousands of worlds under your control, 40  _ billion _ on a single planet, starships...how can you even think of such things! People like you doing that?! Impossible!”

Llyn crossed her arms, “I can't tell if this is a gender thing, a race thing, or what--”

The woman still ignored her, and started pacing back and forth, “Your people have largely grown without benefit from Gem technology, it's in areas too remote and inhospitable for you...I admit, your culture can be quite compelling, but  _ this _ …” She held out the book as though it were a lab sample, “...this is something else! Where did it come from?”

“Uh...Del Rey books?”

“No, no, where did…” she read the spine, “I-sac-ck Asimov come from?”

Llyn scratched her head, “I’m not sure...let me google it.” Her eyes widened a little when she found the answer, “Huh, Russia SFSR? Oh, West Russia under the Soviet Union...”

“What planet is that?!” The woman demanded from over Llyn’s shoulder, standing on a chair.

Llyn jumped, and couldn’t help swearing “Jesus! Make a sound next time--you’re not even supposed to be back here!”

“What planet is Russia SFSR?” the woman repeated.

“What?!”

“What planet?”

“Earth!”

“Impossible!”

The woman spotted, then picked up the copy of  _ Starship Troopers _ , and quickly scanned the back of it. She must've recognized the name, or the publisher as being sci-fi.

“ _ Controversial Hugo award-winning bestseller...battle against mankind's most alarming enemy... _ arachnids?  _ If the  _ training  _ doesn't kill you, the  _ Bugs _ are more than willing to finish the job _ ?! Bugs?!”

She turned it over, looking at the cover. It showed the protagonist of the novel wearing his power armor, only his head exposed as the helmet was lowered over it. She pointed at the image, “what is that appearance modifier he's using? What's with the helmet?”

“In the book, it’s called Marauder armor.” she bit her lip, unsure of how to explain the concept to a cultist weirdo. “Um...so think armor, but more like an exoskeleton. meant to augment the human body. You can carry stuff, like armor and weapons, or even just carry heavy loads around.”

“Capability enhancing equipment?” The woman breathed.

“Yes.” Llyn snatched the book back. “We don’t really have anything like it in the real world,” she said quickly, and the woman deflated. “But I guess it’s kinda like anything you use to do stuff you can’t normally--like a wheelchair, or prosthetics.” 

“What kind of armor is it?” the short green woman demanded, leaning toward the book. “What capabilities does it have?”

“Well, you’d have to read the book to find out,” Llyn told her. “And this one’s mine.”

  
  


The short lady leaned back, and for once actually looked embarrassed. Wasn’t nearly as satisfying as Llyn had hoped.

“Sorry…could you please tell me what the Marauder suit’s capabilities are?”

“Miss, are you foreign or something?”

“Yes. Of course I am. Are you going to answer my question?”

Against Llyn’s better judgement, she opened to the first chapter. The raid on the Skinnies. She’d wondered such things herself, as Heinlein never quite fully described it. In fact she recalled a line where the protagonist dismisses a description of weaponry, saying “we’ve all seen them on the vids” or something like that.

“Uh...they’re heavily armored, enough to make an infantryman be able to fight tanks. They fire tactical nukes and lots and lots of explosives. They’ve got rocket launchers, energy weapons, something called a y-rack that dumps bombs to either side, and they hop around on the battlefield using jump jets.”

The green lady snickered, “Hopping? Why in the world would they do that? Sounds like an army of pearls...though I think humans would be just as delicate...”

“Blitzkrieg. Rapid movement. Give the grunts the same speed as an armored unit.”

“Armored unit? What’s the difference between that and a...what’s a grunt?”

“Infantry. Footsoldiers. Cannon fodder.”

Peridot furrowed her brow, “That’s an odd name for them. What do you mean by an armored unit?” the woman was a little less hyperactive now, but she still made Llyn a bit nervous.

“Armored unit, like tanks.”

“Tanks?”

“Armored fighting vehicle. Military section is right over there.” Llyn gestured to one of the closest aisles.

The short woman hopped to the counter, then down to the ground. She scanned the shelves for a moment, before pulling down a book and flipping through it.

She furrowed her brow. Then she started laughing.

The woman waved the book at Llyn, “You really had me believing you! Humans in armor, strapping themselves into big armored boxes! Ha!”

She grinned, and checked the spine of the book, “Huh...different author…”

Llyn walked around the counter, grumbling as she wiped what looked like topsoil off it.

“Lady, I appreciate a good book as much as the next geek, but don’t leave your boot--”

The woman picked another book off the wall, “Wait a minute…this is listed as non-fiction.”

“Yeah. Cuz it is. Now--”

The green lady shoved a tank book in the clerk’s face again. An early Renault FT tank of World War I was shown, leading a charge across a battlefield.

“This! This is real?”

“Yeah, of course!”

The woman shook her head as she flipped through the book, “You mount an armored box to a primitive heat engine, mount expanding-gas weaponry to it, and ride into battle! How can that not be fiction?!”

Llyn scratched her head. “Well, it’s not.”

The woman looked skeptical, “Hm. I suppose it makes sense. It’s like your space travel. You build such dangerous things just so you can survive. Power armor evidently is made for the same purpose, much like your spacesuits…”

  
  


The woman furrowed her brow, again putting on that aneurysm expression. She vaulted over the desk and ran back into the aisles.

The clerk groaned, “Don’t kill customers, don’t kill customers, don’t kill customers…”

She vaulted the counter herself(a little unnecessarily) and pursued. For all she knew this lady was an escaped mental patient.

The woman had pulled off a ton of books off the wall once again. She’d gone past Isaac, and started flipping through Ray, Arthur, and Philip’s modest collections, her eyes huge at what she saw.

“Lady, what is  _ with _ you?!”

The woman looked up at her, “ _ Me _ ?! What’s wrong with  _ you _ ?! What’s wrong with your whole species?!”

Llyn blinked. “What do you mean by that? Lady, do I need to call the cops?”

“No! I need you to explain! I need  _ someone _ to explain your species! How can you be so contradictory? Simple logic indicates most organic species cannot get into space, and all simulations indicated your planet is not capable of such advanced thinking…”

  
  


Llyn had had enough. “Why do you keep saying stuff like that, anyway? Humans this and that--what are you an alien?”

The woman stopped talking, and furrowed her brow at her. She snickered, “You thought I was human?”

“Yes--!” Llyn threw up her hands.

“Of course I’m not human! I just got stranded here. What did you think  _ this _ was?” she pointed at the gem on her face above her goggles.

Llyn stared at her. 

The woman raised her eyebrow, “I was wondering if my earlier assessment about a mental condition was correct. I’m a peridot! No human looks like one of those! And humans can’t do this!”

She reached out both her hands, and visibly strained, making a low growling sound. Behind the clerk, a step stool slowly rose into the air. It rotated slowly as though it were in microgravity.

Llyn’s jaw dropped. She walked over to it, hesitantly sweeping a hand underneath it. Then rapidly above it, and around it.

The woman dropped the stool with immense relief, “I’d rather not be put in the same category as you people, thank you very much. But my questions still stand!”

Llyn nudged the stool with her foot, “Huh.”

She lifted the stool, turned it over, and raised an eyebrow at what she saw(or didn’t see) on the bottom. “Huh.”

She eyed the woman, “How’d you do it, Captain Marvel?”

“Who?”

“Neat trick. How’d you do it?”

The woman looked  _ offended _ , “I have metal-lifting powers!”

“Right. So, how’d you get the magnets in? Or are they in the roof? Did Mr. Dodson put you up to this?”

“No! Who’s Mr. Dodson?!”

“Is it that thing they used to keep the city in  _ Bioshock Infinite _ in the sky? I can’t remember what it was called, something I saw on  _ Game Theory _ …”

“No!”

“Alright, it could be…”

The woman growled, and lifted the stool right out of Llyn’s hands, “Look! I’m doing that!”

She made it rise and fall rapidly for emphasis, “Look! Look!”

Llyn dropped the stool like it was on fire, both hands raised, “What’s going on?”

“Metal powers!”

“Ferrokinesis…?” Llyn muttered.

“See?”

Both eyes widened, and she backed away for a moment.

Llyn blinked. Then again.

Her hands balled into fists. Then the strangest sort of grin appeared on her face. Happy, but angry at the same time. Skewed almost.

  
She pumped her fist, and pointed at the woman, “I  _ knew _ it! I freaking knew it!”


End file.
